Remove an Item of Clothing
by ChaosRocket
Summary: Marik really hates his scars. But that's not going to stop Bakura from getting what Marik owes him. Thiefshipping, post-canon.


AN: Marik in this fic is the Hikari!

Reviews are loved and appreciated.

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There was a knock at the door. Marik had absolutely no inclination to get up and answer it. Frankly, he didn't have an inclination to do much of anything since...well, since everything had happened. He should have been glad that the Pharaoh was gone and that he was finally free of his duties as a tomb keeper- and he was- but there seemed to be a melancholy air hanging about him, a sort of oppressive ennui, ever since...

The knocking became more insistent. The person obviously wasn't going to go away, and he couldn't get any peace with the constant pounding. Groaning, he got up to answer the door.

"What do you want?" he asked as he flung the door open, the irritation clear in his voice.

To his surprise, there in the doorway stood Ryou.

"May I come in?" asked Ryou.

Marik sighed. "I suppose."

Ryou walked in, shutting the door behind him. There was a moment of silence as the two looked at each other.

"Well?" asked Marik impatiently.

"I have something to show you," Ryou finally explained.

"Alright, make it quick. I'm...busy." He wasn't busy. He just didn't feel like dealing with Ryou. Or anyone, for that matter. But he especially didn't want to deal with someone who reminded him of his past. For reasons that he didn't want to think about, being reminded of his past made him feel even more listless and directionless than he'd already been feeling ever since the end of the whole mess.

"Promise not to tell Yugi and his friends?" asked Ryou.

"Why would I tell anything to Yugi or his friends?" asked Marik. "I don't speak to them at all. It's not like I'm friends with them. Even if I wanted to be, it would be kind of awkward after...everything. And I don't want to be, anyways."

Ryou nodded, understanding.

"Aren't you friends with them, though?" Marik asked.

"Not anymore," said Ryou. "Because of this." And then he opened his jacket to reveal the Sennen Ring hanging around his neck.

Marik stared, eyes wide with shock. "How..."

Ryou shrugged. "The Ring has come back to me of its own accord before. I wasn't too surprised. I suppose it just...lifted itself out of the ground and flew back to me."

"And is Bakura..."

"Oh, yes," said Ryou, smiling. "That's why I'm not friends with Yugi and the others anymore. If they knew, they'd..."

"Try to take the Ring away from you," Marik finished for him.

"Yes," said Ryou. "And the last time Yugi had the Ring- when _you_ gave it to him- he tried to leave it on an island that was about to explode, and-"

"I didn't know Bakura was still in there!" Marik interrupted him, defensive for reasons he himself didn't really understand. "I thought his soul had been destroyed in the duel against my dark personality. And I had the thing around my neck- I thought he would have talked to me if he was in there."

"Well, I knew he was still in there, because we have a connection. And as I was saying, everyone else was running to escape the island before it blew up, and I had to run back and get the Ring and make it off the island before it exploded. I'd prefer not have to do something like that again."

"You risked your life to save him," Marik realized.

"Of course," said Ryou, as if he couldn't imagine why Marik would think that he would have done anything else. "Just like he stood in front of me and took the hit to protect me in his duel against Atem."

"Alright, I get it," snapped Marik. And now he was annoyed for reasons he couldn't understand. Yes, Ryou's relationship with Bakura was just so very special.

"So haven't Yugi and your other former friends noticed that you're suddenly not around anymore?" Marik asked.

Ryou scoffed. "When have they ever?"

Marik shrugged. He had never kept up on Ryou's relationship with Yugi and his band of brainless cheerleaders.

"Well, as to why I'm here," said Ryou. "My other half has something to say to you."

Before Marik could respond, Ryou's eyes rolled back into his head. Marik didn't know it, but Ryou had just retreated inside himself, to Bakura's soul room.

"Good luck," said Ryou, hugging Bakura tightly.

"Mm," Bakura responded, returning the hug. And then he took over Ryou's body.

"Hello, Marik," said Bakura.

"B-bakura..." stuttered Marik, stumbling backwards. Somehow, he was still quite shocked to see him, even though Ryou had already told him that Bakura was still there.

"There's something that you owe me," stated Bakura.

"What?" asked Marik. "I don't owe you-"

"Oh, yes, you do," said Bakura forcefully. "You promised me that you'd show me the words written on your back if I dueled your dark personality. And I did. So show me."

"Bakura, surely you must know that the eighth key is useless now. Zorc was destroyed. You can't raise him now."

"I know, it was unfortunate," said Bakura. "Though, Ryou is happy that it's just me and him in there now, without that piece of Zorc's soul to bother us, so that's something. Anyways, it's the principle of the thing. You promised."

"But- but you agreed to duel my dark personality before you even knew that I had the eighth key on my back!" exclaimed Marik. "By the time you found out, you'd already agreed to the duel, so even if I'd said no when you asked me for something in return, you would have had to go ahead with the duel anyways!"

"So then why did you agree to show me?" asked Bakura, deadpan.

"I-I guess I thought it was the right thing to do, since you were helping me," said Marik.

"Ah, so you agree that you owe me," said Bakura smugly. "Now pay up."

"Fine, FINE!" yelled Marik. He pulled his shirt off in one quick motion, and turned around so that his back faced Bakura. "Happy now?"

"Yes," said Bakura. And suddenly, Bakura's hands were on Marik's back, touching his scars.

Marik jerked away immediately. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I need to touch them to read them," said Bakura calmly.

"No!" shouted Marik.

"Just give me five minutes," said Bakura. "Five minutes of touching the scars on your back, so I can read them. I _died_ trying to protect your worthless soul from being destroyed by your dark personality, and to keep him from killing your family. I didn't have to do that, you know. Is five minutes too much to ask? After that, I swear I will never ask to touch or look at your scars again."

Marik scowled. "Five minutes," he reluctantly agreed. "If it will get you to leave me alone. And then never again."

"Yes," Bakura confirmed.

Marik visibly stiffened as Bakura's hands started touching his back once more. Bakura began from the top, slowly, carefully tracing the scars with the tips of his fingers.

"I HATE these scars!" Marik suddenly burst out. "And I hate the idea of anyone seeing them, let alone touching them!"

"I thought you might," said Bakura, sounding unconcerned.

"Of course I do!" shouted Marik. Bakura's dismissive tone had enraged him even more than he already was, and he continued with his tirade. "You try having your father carve up your back with a searing hot knife, and see how much you like the scars that are left!"

"Shame," said Bakura. "I kind of think they look nice."

Marik growled, deep in his throat. "Bastard," he said, under his breath.

"Shh," said Bakura, continuing to lightly touch the scars. Marik's teeth were clenched, and his breath was rapidly hissing in and out of him as Bakura's hands continued to move down his back. Bakura could tell that Marik was deeply uncomfortable. Marik's body was totally rigid, his muscles tensed from the stress of the situation. But still Bakura slowly traced over every hieroglyph, softly ghosting his fingers over each line. It was really too bad that he would never get to touch these scars again. Finally, he reached the end, gently sliding his fingers over the very last symbol.

"Done," said Bakura, removing his hands from Marik's back.

Marik breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

"So, what the hell was the point of that?" asked Marik venomously, spinning around to face Bakura.

"Well, as I said, I figured that you didn't like your scars. Didn't like having them, and didn't like anyone to look at them or touch them. That's why I did it."

"So you did it just to torment me?" screamed Marik. "You're such a sadistic-"

"Marik," said Bakura firmly. "Reach around and touch your back."

Marik looked at him with incomprehension. "What?"

"Just do it," commanded Bakura.

Curious now, Marik twisted his arms around to put his hands on his back, and felt...nothing. Just smooth skin.

With a confused look on his face, Marik tilted his shoulder and craned his neck around as far as it would go, trying to look for the scar that was near the top of his shoulder blade. There was nothing there.

"They're...they're gone?" asked Marik, disbelieving.

"Gone," confirmed Bakura.

"But...how?" Only after the words were out of his mouth did he realize that it was the wrong question. But he listened to Bakura's answer anyways.

"The Ring has the ability to restore skin to its original state, once the skin has healed itself as much as it can naturally- I just have to touch the scars and concentrate the Ring's power in order to do it," said Bakura. "Why do you think that I- Ryou, I mean- doesn't have any scars?"

Bakura held up his hand, showing his palm to Marik. Then he realized that this would mean nothing to Marik- he hadn't told him about the spire incident. So instead, he rolled up his sleeve, turning to show Marik his arm. Marik would certainly remember _that_- it had been Marik who had wanted him to stab himself in the arm, and he had done it, to prove to Marik that he could trust him so that they could be partners. It had been a terrible wound, but there was no mark left at all.

Marik understood. And then, Marik asked the right question. "Why?"

"Why did I do it?" asked Bakura. "I told you. Because I knew you didn't like your scars. So I got rid of them for you."

"Oh...oh," said Marik. "Thank- is that why you came here? Is that what you came to do?"

"That, and one more thing," said Bakura. "I also came to do this."

And then Bakura swiftly went to Marik and kissed him gently on the lips. As he did, he put his arms around Marik, sliding his hands up over Marik's perfect, flawless back.

Marik sighed in total contentment, returning Bakura's kiss, and able to enjoy the feeling of hands caressing his skin for the first time.

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AN: Do I have to say it? Actually, yes, I do. They lived happily ever after.

I just thought the idea of the Ring being able to heal scars made sense, because Ryou really doesn't seem to have any scars, despite the extreme wounds he's suffered. So this is what I came up with.

Anyways, this fic references several canon events, some of them manga-only, so hopefully there's no confusion. 


End file.
